


My Baby You'll Be

by BlakeyCake



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:12:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5690623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlakeyCake/pseuds/BlakeyCake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They sat together in silent solidarity, mourning the loss of a future, heads pounding with what-ifs.<br/>CS Drabble - Miscarriage</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Baby You'll Be

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for the angst! Thanks to lovelylumie for being an incredible beta <3
> 
> Quote is from the children's book Love You Forever.

 

 

> _"I’ll love you forever_
> 
> _I’ll like you for always_
> 
> _As long as I’m living_
> 
> _My baby you'll be"_

 

Emma’s hand trembled as she wound up the music box, her fingers turning the delicate silver around and around. She hit the end and listened as tinkling notes began to play, the melody all at once too sweet. A tiny ballerina twirled around a pink circle, and Emma watched as droplets of water fell in her path. _Plink plonk._ Tears ran down Emma’s cheeks as she carefully placed the box atop a dresser, the haunting music a background as she floated through the room. Her hand brushed across the surface of everything she came across - the wooden crib, its rungs painstakingly smooth, the dangling unicorns, their bodies catching the light in a rainbow of colors, the purple teddy bear, its fur soft and warm - before finally coming to rest on her stomach. It was still slightly curved, but deceptively so; its insides were painfully empty.

Emma sunk to the floor, fingers tangling in the plush carpet as a sob wracked her body. Images flashed through her head: the stab of pain she’d woken up to, Killian’s alarm when he heard her groan, the mad dash to the hospital. The look on the doctor’s face that could only mean one thing. The “I'm sorry”s, the murmurs, the pitying looks. A nursery, filled with every conceivable thing except one -- a baby.

Emma’s grief blossomed, threatening to consume her. It washed over her in waves, longing, sorrow, and despair each ballooning painfully inside her chest. Her heart wanted to burst, her lungs wished to scream, but all she could do was cry, water pouring from her eyes like rain from the storm she could feel raging in her veins. _It’s not fair,_ the thought looped over and over again in her mind, a broken record doomed to repeat. _I was finally ready. I finally had love to share. Finally had room in my heart._ Emma wept for the lost girl that once was and that had now returned, for the happy ending she had fought so long and so hard for only to have it taken away. _And then I failed._ She supposed she shouldn't be surprised. After all, when did things ever work out right for her? In the end, the people she loved always ended up hurt. _I_ _hurt them. It was my fault. Always my fault. I was stupid for trying. I will never be good enough. My fault my fault my fault_.

Strong arms wrapped around her shaking body, and she turned to see Killian. Tears made tracks down his cheeks and his eyes brimmed with words that didn't need to be spoken, with mutual understanding, and with shared pain. Emma tucked her head into his shoulder, hands rubbing his back as he rocked them slowly. They sat together in silent solidarity, mourning the loss of a future, heads pounding with what-ifs. The music box’s song had ended long ago, but Killian wound it up again, and Emma leaned into him as they both watched the ballerina spin. Emma wondered if she would have liked to dance, if she would have done ballet. A brief image of a little blonde girl with blue eyes and a pink tutu flitted across the backs of her eyelids, and then it was gone. When the final note played, Emma turned to Killian.

“I don't want to forget about her. To...to pretend like she didn't exist.” Her voice was low and choked, her throat thick from crying.

“We should name her.” Killian’s spoke quietly, but with conviction. Emma’s heart throbbed at the idea, and she quickly nodded her assent.

“Lavender,” Emma whispered, her fingers curling into Killian’s chest. The barest traces of a smile lifted the ends of his cheeks.

“For the flowers that grow in the spring,” he murmured, tucking a lock of Emma’s hair behind her ear. “Lavender it is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Years later, Emma tucked Liam into bed, whispering goodnight before placing a kiss on his forehead. The room had changed a lot; the walls were navy blue, there were anchors and ships adorning the furniture, and plastic glow-in-the-dark stars were stuck to the ceiling in an effort to ease Liam’s fear of the dark. But the carpet was still plush, and a single glass unicorn still sat on the dresser. And tucked away in the corner of a drawer in the back of Emma’s closet was a little pink music box, rusted with age.

Killian tended to the garden in their front yard and plants blossomed under his caring hand, painting their porch with a litany of colors. Every April they picked the pretty purple flowers with the long stems and decorated the house with them, filling vases upon vases with the fragrant blooms. And when Liam asked why, Emma and Killian simply smiled at each other and answered, “They're for your sister.”

 


End file.
